


Hold

by JRCash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Enemy Lovers, Gingerpilot, If you squint there might be a plot, M/M, Neither of them are nice to each other, One Shot, Porn Without Plot, Secret Lovers, Smut, blowjob, generalpilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 05:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12697899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRCash/pseuds/JRCash
Summary: There were never cuddles afterwards, no sweet nothings whispered to each other from beneath the sheets. It was too dangerous of a game they were playing and neither man was willing to kiss and tell.





	Hold

Their fucks had always been fast and needy. On borrowed time, stolen away to remote rooms on backwater planets and moons far at the corners of star charts. Places where aside from criminals and spice runners, most had forgotten even existed.

Poe never minded. There was never cuddles afterwards, never sweet nothings whispered to each other from beneath the sheets. The General would disappear into the refresher to wash away what had occurred between them, leaving Poe to catch his breath and redress, back to his ship before the shower water had even shut off. They didn't need to say goodbye, even if both men knew it may have been the last time they would see each other alive. That was the fact of being on opposite sides of a war. Neither ever raised the _what if_ one side captured the other again. Pity was not something that could easily be taken without suspicions being raised, loyalties being questioned. There were no _what ifs_ in what they were doing.

The adrenaline high from Hux was as good as one Poe would get when flying in battle. Maybe even better. Poe knew it was fucked up he got off with his sworn enemy, wires somehow crossed deep within his brain that caused him to crave Hux in the ways he did. He shouldn’t want someone who fought for a cause he had pledged his life to eradicate from the galaxy. There was something about Hux though, beneath his cold and calculating demander that Poe was drawn to that he couldn't explain.

The same could be said about Hux. He should hate Poe with every fiber of his being, yet he couldn't bring himself to when they were tucked away together in cantina rooms rented by the hour. Poe was Resistance scum, something Hux was raised to believe was the lowest of the low, yet when the pilot’s dark eyes looked at him, his garishly ugly orange flight suit unbuttoned half down his toned chest, Hux was anything but repulsed.

Hux never confessed to Poe after reading the official report of what Kylo Ren had done to him while held by the Order, he threw his data pad across the room so forcefully it shattered against the wall, leaving a spray of broken glass and shards of metal engrained in the rug that his cleaning droid was still picking out remnants of it weeks later. If it had been any other Resistance prisoner, he would have been proud of the knight, maybe even offering up Kylo a rare congratulations for getting the information, no matter the mental toll it took on the person it had come from. Instead, the next time he saw the knight stalking through the corridors of the Finalizer, Hux turned on his heel in avoidance, rushing to the nearest 'fresher to violently throw up, choking and spitting until nothing but bitter bile came up.

In a strange, twisted way, both the pilot and the General took their unspoken emotions out on one another. Neither threatened capture or death in their meetings, never using the situation to their advantage to gain the upper hand. A peculiar sense of trust established itself between them, that for at least for a few hours, the war and the rest the galaxy didn’t matter. It was purely carnal, so they both told themselves, meaning little more than hooking up with someone for a night from their respected own sides of the turmoil.

Both wanted the the bruises and the marks, Hux allowing the pilot to mar his pale flesh so long as it could be covered by his uniform after the fact. It was one of the few ground rules Hux had voiced early on, firmly stating he had a position to uphold outside of the cantina walls. Poe, on the other hand, wore his like badges of honor, even if no one knew who had awarded them to him. His squadron would make jokes once he returned to base, saying he looked like he got mauled by a wampa while on shore leave, jibbing their leader lightheartedly trying to get a name of the person who had sucked such deep bruises into Poe’s neck.

It was too dangerous of a game they were playing and Poe never kissed and told.

* * *

 

Locking the door behind them, Poe turned towards Hux, who had already shed his heavy coat. Both men’s arms wrapped around each other as their lips met. The weeks apart melted away as they pressed against one another, disregarding any need for air as tongues parted lips, each more fervently than the other trying to make up for lost time. Hands traced against each other’s clothing, pushing fabric up and out of the way to make contact with bare skin. Breaking from one another for a second, each man seized the opportunity to pull one another’s shirts from each other’s bodies, tossing them to the floor carelessly before becoming entangled with one another again. Poe felt Hux’s hands run up his bare back, his sharp fingertips digging into his skin as they cupped against his shoulders.

“On your knees, Commander” Hux demanded, pushing down on Poe’s shoulder blades.

Poe smirked, unbudging despite the pressure being applying against him, his own hands running down the front of Hux’s chest as his eyes darted up to meet the Generals.

“Are you pulling rank on me?” the pilot questioned slyly.

“Even if you were one of my men, I would still be above you” Hux replied with a snark, uneasing against the pilot.

“Are you trying to recruit me right now, General?” Poe smirked. “If I was one of your men, would you still let me fuck you?”

Hux let out a low laugh, the pressure of his erection nearly painful as it strained against the thin silk of his boxers. It was hardly the time for a debate of which side of the war was worth fighting for. He needed the pilot’s warm mouth wrapped around him, each second dragging out as if it was hours.

“Suck my cock, fly boy” Hux ordered, digging his fingertips deeper into Poe’s shoulders, pinching his flesh near his pressure points, hoping by force, he would obey.

Hux’s voice keened as the pilot leaned forward to place wet, open mouthed kisses against his bare chest, seemingly unaffected by the pain. Slowly, he trailed lower, his hands tracing down his pale skin towards the waistband of his underwear. Hux released his grip, now that Poe was heading in the correct direction and ran his fingers through the pilot’s mess of dark curls, guiding him along as his lips pressed against the tented fabric, teasing him further. Tracing against the outline of Hux’s length, the General let out a low groan above him, a mixture of pain and pleasure catching in his throat.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Hux curled his fingers around strands of Poe’s hair, pulling on the thickness at the roots, trying to urge him along. He was not a patient man, especially now.

Poe’s hands traced along the elastic that rode low against Hux’s waist, slowly pulling the fabric away from his hips, allowing Hux to spring free from the confining material. Wrapping his hand around him, Poe stoked Hux firmly a few times as he pressed his mouth against the tip. Parting his lips, he let the General’s length slip past them, hollowing his cheeks as he began to find a pace. Bobbing up and down, Poe easily found the familiar rhythm he had learned the General enjoyed the most. Letting out a guttural moan, Hux found enough strength to mutter words.

“Kriffing hell, Dameron. Took you long enough”.

Poe continued, not ceasing his pace any as he took Hux completely, the length of him dipping past his gag reflex without missing a beat. The more rational side of him hated how much he loved being in this position. What would his squadron think of him now? If he recounted to them how hard he got with a First Order cock rammed so far down his throat tears threatened to prick at the corners of his eyes? That the bruises they teased him about were there because of Hux’s grasp? To the Resistance, he was _nice_. Always willing to help, the friendly, upbeat pilot everyone seemed to love. The pilot who beneath all that was trying to heal his scars, to hide his pain while entangling himself with the enemy.

Easing away, Poe’s hands ran up the General’s toned thighs as he let his length slip from his lips, falling away from him to rest against Hux’s stomach. He traced his fingers against Hux’s pale skin, fingers ghosting across his length as he pressed kisses back up his chest before meeting his lips. His throat was raw as he swallowed before kissing Hux deeply, allowing the General’s tongue to slip into his own mouth. Nipping at his bottom lip, Poe tugged gently before kissing his way across his jawline to Hux’s earlobe.

Whispering into the General’s ear, Poe’s voice was low and needy as he spoke.

“Hands and knees. Now” he ordered, taking a commanding tone, mimicking Hux’s earlier.

Hux rolled his head back into the pillow, his icy eyes half lidded as he began to move under the pilot. Poe shifted his weight from the General, he rocked back onto his heels near the edge of the mattress to allow Hux to assume the position he wanted him in.

Poe took in the sight before him for a second, his hands reaching out to grasp Hux’s hips, dragging his knees against the sheets closer to him as he let his feet fall from the bed behind him to stand. He hoped the friction from the scratchy bedsheets burned against the General’s knees, turning his pale skin red. They’d be raw once he was once with him irregardless.

Seeing the First Order General bent over for him, ass in the air, waiting for him made Poe’s already hardened length twitch in anticipation. He wondered to himself if he was the one man in the galaxy Hux would accept an order from, never protesting, always obeying. Poe took hold of himself, stroking slowly as he reached down beside the bed for a small bottle on the floor. Flipping the cap open between his thumb and forefinger, Poe let go of himself, allowing his other hand free to catch the oil dripping from the bottle as he tilted it towards his palm. Hux looked over his shoulder, giving the pilot a stean stare as he watched Poe coat his fingers.

Hux’s eyes were narrowed, silently conveying his need, his mind clouded with lust. The amount of teasing the pilot was doling out was nearly unbearable to him. He burrowed his face back into the pillows, silently cursing himself for giving up power so easily as Poe ran his oil slicked hand up between Hux’s cheeks. Stifling a moan, Hux grit his teeth, hiding his face between his elbows. It felt too good, his baser instincts overriding any logical thought.

_Weak willed. Useless._

He was anything but those words he was once called, except for when it came to Poe. Any partner in his past, he would have maintained the upper hand, yet for the pilot, they seemed to feed off of one another’s needs. Dominance was not reserved for one person, rather something they traded as they pleased.

Poe easily worked a single finger into Hux, the General’s body allowing access with little resistance. The pilot knew that was all his doing, while never explicitly told so, he knew that no man of the First Order had taken Hux in the way he had. It wasn’t in his nature to show his weaknesses, especially to men of the Order. Gently adding a second finger, Poe stretched Hux, preparing him for himself. He loved how as he curled his fingers within Hux, he would illicit rasping moans, stifled in the sheets, as if the General was trying to stifle every single one of his vulnerabilities with a mouthful of cheap cotton.

“I’m ready” Hux assured, his voice steadfast, despite him unravelling in the pilot’s touch.

Poe pulled his fingers from Hux. Even if Hux hadn’t voiced his opinion, Poe was barely hanging on as it was. His hand grasped his length, tugging the tightened skin a few times as he lined himself up to the General's entrance. His hands steadied himself on Hux’s hips as he pushed inside, letting out a deep breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in.

“Kriff” Poe groaned, inching his way further, the General’s body accepting him willingly.

Hux’s face was buried between his arms into the pillow, tuffs of disheveled red hair poking out against the stark white linens of the bed. His fingers were wrapped around the edge of the pillow case, his knuckles almost as white as the fabric he was holding fast to. He was fighting, a battle of wills within himself, a losing one at that. As Hux’s body completely gave up control, Poe easily slipped into the hilt, his own hip bones hitting against the General’s ass as he slowly began to pick up the pace.

Letting out a low groan, Poe wanted to pound relentlessly into the General, unleashing all the unchecked aggression he had been holding in during their weeks apart. He settled instead on a moderate pace, enough keep the General satisfied for the time being. For a second, he questioned himself on holding back, unsure why he suddenly cared for the man beneath him, an unusual thought in the heat of the moment. Normally, his fingers would dig deep into Hux’s hips, holding them tight under his grasp until purple bruises bloomed under his fingertips. Yet this time, he was careful not to leave a mark, lightly guiding Hux’s body along with the rhythm of his own. He’d tried to be gentle before, early on in their rendezvous, Hux growling at him from between gritted teeth to go _faster, deeper, harder._ The General did no such thing now. Poe released one of his hands to reach around to Hux’s length, taking it into his grasp, stroking it firmly. He wanted to offer his praises, tell Hux _how perfect he was, how good his was for taking him so well_ , but kept silent. Instead he worked him in his hand, still sticky with oil, skin gliding effortlessly against his palm.

Hux whimpered at the pilot's touch. The gentlest sound Poe had ever heard the man make escaped his lips as he continued his assault. He wasn’t sure how long he would last, the General too tight around him and it had been too long since he had him. Already he could feel his stomach knotting and muscles tensing as he fought against the urge of release.

“More...please” Hux nearly begged, his polite Imperial accent clipping his words, lacking any malice they normally held.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Poe picked up the pace, working Hux’s length quicker as his own pressed into his body. It was too much, he wasn’t going to last, as much as he tried to fight it. He’d run out of things to try and distract himself with, Hux’s body too much for him. A white hot heat ripped through him, blindsiding him as his chest tightened and body trembled.

“Oh Kriff!” Poe yelled out. Hux joined the pilot’s exclamations, screaming out as he came, coating Poe’s hand.

Gently, Poe released himself from Hux, pulling away to allow the General to fall forward into the sheets. His lanky body turned against the rumpled covers, neither bothering to pull away the duvet before they started. Poe flopped down next to him unceremoniously, his forehead and chest covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Even in his sated state, he was mindful to keep enough distance between them, making sure they did not touch.

Poe stared up at the ceiling. The plaster was showing it’s age, peeling at the corners, long cracks criss crossing the expanse. He tried to gather himself as his chest rose and fell in rapid breaths. He could feel the heat from Hux’s body radiating from beside him, even with the gap between them. So lost in his trance, Poe practically jumped when he felt the bed move beside him, the mattress dipping as the General rolled to his side to face Poe, rather than get up and disappear to the refresher as he normally would.

With a tenderness he didn't know he possessed until now, Hux traced his fingers against Poe’s chest, memorizing the smooth planes of skin over taut muscle. He ran his fingertips over a few long scars, little things about the pilot he'd never paused long enough to truly memorize before. One was deep, puckered skin that healed into a jagged line that had faded slightly with age. No doubt a graze from a blaster bolt. Another cluster, fresher than any others, peppered his rib cage, still purple and red.

Hux placed a chaste kiss against Poe’s chest. It was not the time to question the stories behind the scars. He already knew where some had come from.

Frozen in place, Poe was almost afraid to move, his body tense beneath the General’s touch. It was such a sudden change, especially from a man who thrived on rigid routine and order. Hux shifted again, picking his head up and raising his arm against the pillows, inviting Poe to rest against him.

Poe looked up at Hux with questioning dark eyes, a look of confusion crossing his face as he tried to figure if the General’s invitation was genuine, or if some sort of trick. They had gone this long without either using their meetings as a lure, why now?

Instead of his usual clinical glare, Hux’s face had softened. His eyes still held the unshakable cold they always contained, yet there was an underlying glimmer to them Poe had never seen before. Something from deep within the man, something he never had felt for another before creeping towards the surface.

Poe gave in, scooting his body closer, closing the gap between them. If Hux was only luring him in to kill him, so be it. While naked in bed on a remote moon wasn’t the most dignified way to go, there were worse ways.

“Stay” Hux urged, his voice almost a whisper as he spoke, his arm tight around Poe, unwilling to let the pilot slip away from him so soon.

“Stay?” Poe questioned.

“Unless you must go” Hux added, faltering slightly. He’d never asked how long of leave Poe took when they met, or even if the Resistance knew he was gone at all.

“No. I can stay” Poe assured, nestling closing into the General’s embrace.

Perhaps one day, either man would admit that there was something more between them, a deeper feeling that hovered just below the surface waiting to be confessed out loud. 

But for now, they would just hold onto one another. 

 

 

 


End file.
